Fox and Hound
by OxWiCkEdOnExO
Summary: ...No real choice is ever easy, Draco...but what matters most is having the courage to make the right choice. You chose the dark side once, don't do it again. - M for language and sexual situations. Ch 4/8 up!
1. Laughing and Drinking and Dancing

**FOX AND HOUND**

**Rated: M for strong language and sexual situations.**

**Chapter Summary: "It's not that great of a feeling, you know - being part of history."**

**Disclaimer: Oh, please. I wish.**

**Authors Note: This story was inspired first by the HPB movie; Malfoy really stood out to me this time and I felt sympathy and interest for his character. It is also inspired by Lady Altair's one shot "Kicking Down Castles" (I highly recommend you read it… I found it brilliant).**

**Oh, and this is my very first Draco fic, and first M-rated fic, and I haven't written in a LONG time. So, please, forgive the tiny mistakes. I'm a bit rusty. **

**CHAPTER ONE: LAUGHING AND DRINKING AND DANCING**

The bar grew darker and darker as evening turned to night. The moon had risen in the sky completely now, that he could see through the tiny windows just below the ceiling. It was full and round tonight, providing extra light within the bar other than the few lamps with dark red shades over them. He had only been there for a few minutes but was already considering leaving. More people had started to enter, order drinks, and begun dancing to the pop music being played from across the room. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing and drinking and dancing as though nothing at all was wrong in their world.

Which was alright, he supposed, since there really _wasn't_ anything wrong in their world. They were at liberty to laugh and drink and dance as much as they very well pleased because they were safe, and they didn't need to concern themselves with anything like wars or reconstruction.

In his world, however, it was quite the opposite. Although the war had ended, reconstruction had only just begun and for someone like him - a former member of the Dark side (and he certainly did consider himself a _former_ member, considering his slightly delayed repentance to the good side) - life was a living Hell. He could hardly walk into any public place in the wizarding community without being shot a dirty look. People looked down upon him, found him disgusting because they had no idea of how he had changed his allegiants last minute. Not that they would have cared anyway, though.

He had grown tired of the looks, of the snobbery from both of his parents who still refused to admit they had been wrong in siding with the Dark Lord. After only two weeks of both, he made the decision to get out and leave. He simply couldn't take it anymore.

He had packed his bags in the night and left a short message to his mother and father, telling them where he was going and not to try and find him. He then Apparated into an ally way in the south of France, a place that had always been close to his heart ever since his childhood visits there in the summers before Hogwarts.

And before the Dark Lord.

It had been the only time in which he had interacted with Muggles. Granted, it was always very brief interactions - getting into a cab and being dropped off on the border of a wizarding resort - and he was never permitted to talk to them.

When he returned, however, years later he realized that he did not have the courage to go and stay around more wizards and witches - they were, in fact, the very people he was trying to escape. Instead, he clumsily used the Muggle money he had quickly exchanged his many galleons for at Gringotts the previous day to rent a drafty, dark, but not all together gloomy apartment near the beach.

For the first two weeks he had hardly left the building. He managed to get by on as little food as possible, choosing to sit and read most of the day by his window that looked out over the sea.

Eventually, though, he became restless and his curiosity got the better of him.

So he went out.

He didn't get far, however, when he spotted a bar just down the street and had decided to enter it.

It was there he saw them laughing, and drinking, and dancing for the first time.

The Muggles.

At first, he had been blown away by it all. He would sit for hours on end, lightly drinking his Muggle beer or wine, watching as they moved about happily and chatted carefree. They had absolutely no idea what had happened - what sacrifices had been made to protect them and the rest of the world from complete annihilation and darkness. These people had no idea about Hogwarts, or Dumbledore, or Harry Potter, or even him, Draco Malfoy.

The thought that kept haunting him, however, was that these people - these Muggles - had never even heard of Tom Riddle.

Of Lord Voldemort.

Perhaps that was why all of their faces looked so young, and yet his seemed distant. Perhaps that was why they were all so bright and their lips lifted into smiles so easily while he was pale, dim, and he had not known a smile in ages.

He had always been taught that Muggles were dumb, easily amused, and altogether boring.

But these people in France - students, mostly - were nothing at all like he had heard. He had overheard a great majority of them talking amongst themselves or others, and they were brilliant. He couldn't understand half of what they discussed - they talked about things such as Come-Puters and Stalks and Bonds - but he could tell that they were intellectual. The reason most wizards and witches thought they were dull or slow was due to their ignorance of all things magical, not truly because they were stupid.

And they were not boring at all! They laughed loudly, and they drank freely, and they danced so carelessly. They had fun, and they joked around (he even found some of their jokes - the ones he could understand, at least - quite funny), and they were never afraid to speak out or get loud.

It hadn't taken a long time before he had started to realize that almost nothing he had once thought he knew of Muggles and the Muggle World was accurate.

Of course, it hadn't taken long for his fascination to wane and eventually his curiosity died down as well.

And he was back to sulking at the same bar he had entered over a month and a half ago, just down the street from his dingy flat. Lately, he had only gone during the day because it was not heavily occupied and people didn't stare at him as he sat at the bar by himself, drinking a beer sheepishly, as though afraid of it's affects. Tonight, however, he had felt the smallest of desires to watch the Muggles again.

They were just so _interesting_.

So he had adorned his typical attire of a black button up shirt, and blue jeans (he had made the mistake of wearing a tie and dress pants the first night, and was embarrassed to discover how ridiculously overdressed he was). He had hardly even ran a brush through his hair in weeks so he knew that it was fairly unkempt. He didn't mind a whole lot what the Muggles thought of his appearance, however, because he never spoke to them (with the exception of the bartender, that was. But even the talking between them had started to dwindle once the man had discovered Draco's routine of drinks). He just sat at his stool and stared at them.

He hadn't expected that night to be any different.

As he sat at his stool, however, this time facing the bar and just observing the crowd through the small, dirty mirrors that lined the cabinets, a young girl plopped herself down in the stool right next to him.

"Bonjour!" She greeted him. She was English.

He didn't answer her.

She had long, curly, dirty blonde hair that was cascading down her back and falling wildly in her bright grey-blue eyes. She wore a white halter top that showed off her slightly tanned shoulders (which also were home to a series of small freckles), and her beautiful build. She was curvy, but fit, and her short black skirt left just enough to the imagination. Her cheeks were flushed, and the little beads of sweat on her forehead alerted him that she had just been dancing in the crowd. There was something about her face that was familiar to him.

He felt as though he had met her before.

But that, he realized, was impossible.

She ordered a drink from the bar before turning to look at him.

"Do you speak English?" She asked him, catching his eye. He didn't respond to her he just continued to stare at her, unable to look away. Her eyelashes were dark and full and her lips were glossy and slightly pouty. He liked full lips though.

On witches, of course. Not on Muggles.

"Do you speak at all?"

She had raised an eyebrow at him and was leaning onto the bar, sipping on the drink the bartended had just handed her.

"I do when I have something to say." He responded coolly. The girl did not seem too put out by his answer, but she did look a little annoyed by it.

"Usually when somebody asks you a question, it requires an answer - which would be something to say, now wouldn't it?" She inquired smartly. Her voice was slightly scratchy as though she had been talking loudly for a long period of time and her vocal chords had started to ware from the stress and yet it had a bizarre comforting tone to it.

"You asked if I spoke, and I answered you." He did not really care to continue their conversation. He was not used to conversing with Muggles and it made him nervous. He didn't want to let something slip.

"I also asked if you spoke English, and you didn't respond." She retorted, clearly not ready to end their talk.

"Yes, I do speak English. Happy?" He was feeling grumpy now. He didn't want to be questioned or talked at. He just wanted to watch.

"That much I had gathered for myself, thanks. Where are you from?" She just wasn't going to go away.

"Wiltshire." He didn't bother inquiring as to where she was from. He knew she would tell him anyway.

"I'm from Watford." She didn't seem to mind the fact that he wasn't willing to converse back with her.

"What brings you to France?" She asked him, prodding even more. If it had been almost a year ago, he would have snapped at her, cursed her under his breath, or insulted her hugely not caring the slightest about how she felt.

But his emotions were drained, now. He could hardly muster enough energy to get angry at anything anymore, so he settled with being slightly annoyed.

"Personal stuff." He replied. He didn't feel that this was a rude thing to say, because it _was_ a very personal reason he had come to France - he was escaping his family, and the entire wizarding community in England.

"Well, aren't you mysterious…" She said softly, catching his eyes in hers. He realized her eyes were actually quite similar to his own, except hers seemed much deeper - they held meaning within them, and passion, and life… all the things he had quite suddenly lost.

"I kinda like mysteries." She said, looking away from him and back at the bar.

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just kept quiet, and returned his gaze to the bar, as well.

"I've been here for two years, today. My parents enrolled me in the dance academy down the road. It's one of the most prestigious in France. Although you could hardly tell that by the building - it looks like some shabby dance hall from the 1800s. Which, granted, it was once. But I guess Madame Pross, the owner and head dance instructor, just never felt like touching the place up. It's still kind of wonderful though - it makes you feel like you're part of history. Which I like because…" She stopped short and Draco turned and looked at her, suddenly intrigued. She did not continue, however, she merely continued to stare in front of her, sipping at her drink.

"It's not that great of a feeling, you know - being part of history."

Her eyes had gotten rather big when she looked back at him. She must not have expected him to respond.

"How do you figure?" She asked him, her shock fading and being replaced by curiosity (a look he knew all too well).

"Unless you're on the winning team, you are forever looked upon as the bad guy. Even if you repented in the end, even if some of what you did _was _heroic, it doesn't matter because you were on the wrong side, therefore you will never be recognized as anything other than a villain and a failure." He had almost forgotten he was talking to someone else, let alone a Muggle. He had become engulfed in his own self pity for a moment so he was taken aback when he heard her voice interrupting his thoughts.

"Maybe next time you should pick a better team, then." She said her voice light, as though she thought he was talking about sports teams instead of the Dark side versus the Light.

Which, he realized, was exactly what she probably thought.

"You don't always get a choice." He said coldly more to reassure himself that there hadn't been one, and that he had been forced into his position.

"There's always a choice."

He looked at her. She was smiling at him.

Why on earth was she smiling at him?

He couldn't manage to look away.

"For instance," She started again, the smile still lingering on her full lips (that he wouldn't have minded on any witch, but on her, of course, they were just average and he barely noticed them), "You could chose to come with me and embark on an adventure that will surely thrill, or you could chose to remain here, staring discreetly at all the people laughing, and drinking, and dancing." She had stood up now and was looking down at him (a feat, he noticed, considering she wasn't very tall).

He looked up at her and briefly debated in his mind.

He couldn't possibly go with her. She was a Muggle - she was gross - she was the enemy.

No.

Voldemort had been the enemy. They were just innocent bystanders.

So maybe it wouldn't hurt -

No.

She was annoying, and charming, and pretty -

No.

She was not pretty!

She was beautiful. Her eyes and her lips were simply marvelous. What it would be like to kiss -

No!

If he kissed her he wouldn't be any better than those half-breeds and mudbloods he had adamantly despised his entire life.

But this bar was getting crowded in a hurry. Where on earth did all these fucking people come from?!

He had to get out of here.

"Where to?" He asked, standing up and towering above her.

She smiled again and this time his stomach did a toss.

"You'll see." She said and with that she turned and headed for the exit. He hesitated for a moment before moving. Maybe he could just Apparate once outside and she wasn't looking.

Just as he thought about that, though, something nagged at the back of his mind. Something he had been missing for a long time was beginning to arise inside of him and it felt foreign to him now.

A sense of adventure.

He made up his mind.

He followed her out into the night.


	2. Fox and Hound

FOX AND HOUND

Rated: M for strong language and sexual situations.

Chapter Summary: "Call me Fox… Because I'm free and sly and can be utterly deceiving if I chose to be… And you're a hound; someone who always does what they are told, never questioning why they must, and never realizing they have the choice to say no."

Disclaimer: Oh, please. I wish.

Authors Note: I'm not positive how well this will be received so I'm just going to post the first two (possibly three) chapters simultaneously. Woo!

CHAPTER TWO: FOX AND HOUND

**It was warm and humid outside in the street. The girl didn't seem to mind though as she took Draco's hand in hers and led him across the road, through the thin patch of trees, and down to the beach. He had stared at this beach through his window every day since he had arrived, always too nervous to actually go down to the shore. Now, however, he was feeling the sand sink into to the spaces between his ankle and shoe and start filling in the gaps uncomfortably. After a few steps the girl stopped and slipped out of her own shoes, making her shrink down another inch in height since she had been wearing high heels. She then stared at him expectantly. He stared blankly back.**

"**Well? Aren't you going to take off your shoes?" He looked down at his feet, unsure of whether he should or not. Then he remembered how uncomfortable they had now become to walk in, so he slid them off as well as his socks and carried them in his left hand while she dragged him along by his right. Her hand was small and he couldn't help but notice how nicely it fit into his.**

**They stopped only a few feet from the water. She plopped down on the sand gracelessly and insisted that he follow.**

"**So," She started after a long silence between them, "What's your name?"**

"**It doesn't matter." He turned and looked solemnly out at the sea. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't think she needed to know. She was just a Muggle after all. "What's yours?"**

**She didn't answer. He turned to look at her, surprised by her silence. Now **_**she**_** was staring out at the ocean.**

"**Mine doesn't matter either." She told him and he raised an eyebrow at her.**

"**Well, could you at **_**least**_** tell me your **_**last**_** name? It's usually how I address people anyway." He said. For some reason he had suddenly become quite interested in what her name was. Perhaps it would explain why she looked so familiar to him.**

"**How about you just call me Fox?" She had turned to look at him now. The moonlight had cast wonderful shadows across half of her face, leaving one of her eyes glowing brightly as it stared at him. Her lips were continuing to gleam too, so lovely and full.**

"**Fox?"**

"**Yes. Fox. And I will call you Hound."**

"**Why?" He was utterly confused now.**

"**Because I'm free and sly and can be utterly deceiving if I chose to be. I don't live by other people's rules, and I feel as though everybody is always trying to hunt me down for my beautiful tail." She said, raising one eyebrow at him before continuing. "And you're a hound; someone who always does what they are told, never questioning why they must, and never realizing they have the choice to say no." She finished. She suddenly seemed to be a lot closer to him, her face inches from his own. He could smell alcohol and mint on her breath as she caught his gaze within her own.**

"**Fox and Hound, then?" He tried to clarify. She nodded and smiled. They both turned and looked out over the ocean again. The wind was starting to pick up, offering them a nice breeze as Fox's hair began to blow into his face. It smelled of flowers and rain in the spring. It was refreshing as it blew across him, softly falling against his cheeks.**

**It felt like ages that they just sat there, staring at the water, her hair blowing into his face.**

**Then, out of nowhere, she stood up.**

"**Do you like to swim?"**

**He didn't know - he had never really gone swimming. He wasn't even sure he knew **_**how **_**to swim.**

**So he remained silent.**

"**Well, I love to swim."**

**Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to look at the ocean.**

**Then he felt something soft land on his head. When he reached up and pulled it off he saw that it was a white halter top that smelled like flowers and rain…**

**His head snapped up to see Fox standing in her bra, removing her skirt. She wore a black strapless bra with matching black, boy-short style panties.**

**He felt his heart stop and his stomach jumped into his throat. He knew he should look away - stare down at his feet or back at the ocean - but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He gazed at her muscular legs, curvy hips, taut stomach, and round bosom. She was absolutely **_**perfectly **_**built. As he moved his gaze up to her face he was horrified to find her staring at him as he stared at her. He then realized his mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it.**

**She smiled down at him.**

**Why the **_**fuck**_** was she **_**smiling**_**?!**

**Before he knew it she had started running towards the water in front of them and went splashing into the waves. An even bigger smile had broken out across her face, making her **_**even more **_**attractive. She laughed and screamed as the cold water splashed into her face.**

"**Come on! Get down to your knickers and come on in!" She shouted from the water. Draco stood up, ready to do exactly as she instructed when he realized what was hiding on his left forearm. His hands had frozen above the top button of his shirt, his eyes wide as he thought of the scarred over Dark Mark hiding beneath his black shirt. He couldn't possibly take off the shirt without risking her asking questions about it.**

**And how could he possibly explain that to a Muggle without seeming like a complete loon?**

"**What are you waiting for? You're not nervous are you? Don't worry about it! I'm not going to try to seduce you, I promise!" Fox shouted over to him once more.**

"**I can't take off my shirt." He yelled back over to her without even thinking. Fox stopped splashing around in the water and stared at him, her head slightly tilted to the side.**

"**What did you say?"**

**He took a deep breath, trying his hardest to think up a reasonable excuse for keeping his shirt on.**

"**I got a bee sting. I can't."**

**He knew she would never go for it, but it was the best he could do.**

"**A bee sting?" She repeated. He nodded.**

"**Where at?"**

"**My arm."**

"**Oh." She shrugged. "Then just take off your jeans then."**

**He was glad she was so far away from him, and that it was nighttime or else she would have seen the deep crimson blush that crept up into his pale cheeks. She had started splashing again, but it was obvious she was waiting for him to join her.**

"**What the hell?" He murmured to himself as he began to undo his belt.**

**He had to be out of his fucking mind.**

**Once he removed his jeans he started walking nervously towards the water. As he approached he tried to figure out why he was doing it. She was a Muggle and he was a wizard - by playing with her in the ocean, no matter who unromantically interested in her he was, he was being a complete hypocrite. He was no better than those other Mudblood and Muggle lovers.**

**But once his shins came into contact with the icy water, and Fox ran awkwardly over to him through it, grabbing a hold of both of his hands and dragging him deeper into the water, he no longer cared how hypocritical he was being.**

**She splashed a little bit of the salty sea water into his face, and it burned his eyes. She giggled as he rubbed at them, trying to ease the fire in his cornea's.**

"**What the fuck are you laughing at?!" He demanded, thoroughly annoyed by the burning sensation.**

"**Oh, please, look at you! Big tough mysterious guy crying over a bit of salt water in his eyes." She giggled some more and Draco began to lose his temper. He splashed some water up into her face where it went up her nose and into her laughing mouth.**

"**Ugh!" She shouted, coughing up the salty water and holding onto her nose.**

"**That's what you get." He said coldly but she just looked back at him and splashed him in the face once more. He growled before taking her by the waist and tackling her into the water. He quickly lifted her back up out of the water, concerned that he might have hurt her as her eyes and lips were shut tightly.**

"**Are you alright?"**

**She spit water into his face.**

"**I'm fine, you arse."**

**Draco scowled at her, angered by her nerve.**

**She just smiled at him.**

**Why the fuck did she keep on smiling at him?!**

"**You're annoying." He spat. She just laughed and shrugged.**

"**Is that why you're holding me like this?" She asked. He looked down and noticed that he was now kneeling in the water, with an arm around her shoulders, holding her up from where he had just dunked her, and the other arm underneath her knees, while her arms had snaked around his neck. Her face was dangerously close to his own and although his mind wasn't sure about it, his stomach had started performing acrobatics while his heart was running a marathon.**

"**I shouldn't do this." He said softly, unsure if she heard him over the crashing waves around them.**

**Evidently she had, though, because her smile faded and her face became quite serious.**

"**Why are you so torn inside?"**

**She might have been a Muggle, but she was definitely observant.**

**He didn't know how to answer her. It was difficult to **_**give**_** a proper answer without telling her all about the war, and Voldemort…**

**Oh, and the fact that he was a wizard.**

**It took him a moment to come up with a decent response.**

"**Remember what I said about being part of history?" He asked her, his voice just as soft as before. She nodded slowly.**

"**I'm the villain. I chose the wrong side and I will forever be remembered as a bad guy." Her eyes seemed to be exploring his face as he spoke, as though looking for traces of the evil in his pores. Eventually they came to rest on his cold grey eyes again.**

"**You are so very mysterious." She repeated. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips.**

"**I like mysteries."**


	3. I Want You

**FOX AND HOUND**

**Rated: M for strong language and sexual situations.**

**Chapter Summary: "Well, well, well. The Hound has found his Fox."**

**Disclaimer: Oh, please. I wish. The song is "I Want You" by Savage Garden.**

**Authors Note: For the record, there are eight chapters to this story. They goes as follows:**

**1- Laughing and Drinking and Dancing**

**2 - Fox and Hound**

**3 - I Want You**

**4 - Secrets**

**5 - Face Your Fear**

**6 - Return to Malfoy Manor**

**7 - The Choice**

**8 - Nineteen Years Later**

**Okay, back to story. Yay!**

**CHAPTER THREE: I WANT YOU**

He hadn't seen Fox in almost two weeks. He found himself going to the bar down the street every night again, subconsciously searching the crowds for her wild blonde hair. Every night he had gone home denying his disappointment, though, when she didn't turn up.

A bottomless pit had started to form in his stomach and every time he didn't see her, it became even deeper and more hollow. He had even stopped reading every day, and instead just watched the beach below his flat, denying how much he hoped to spot her walking along it or playing in the water in her knickers again.

Finally, he became desperate.

He ventured out of his apartment and instead of heading down the street in the direction of the bar, he headed the opposite way towards a shabby old building that looked like it used to be a dance hall in the 1800s.

He figured he must be out of his mind.

He tried to muster up the nerve to enter and ask for her, but then he realized that he did not even know her real name. As a few girls entered the building he debated asking them if they had seen her but he quickly dismissed the thought knowing how sketchy he looked, standing outside of an old dance hall, asking for a girl named "Fox".

So he settled with merely standing outside the dance academy, _hoping_ Fox would either enter or exit at some point during the day.

After almost two hours he got tired of his plan, and tired of waiting. He figured he would just bite his tongue and go in.

He had to be out of his fucking mind.

The academy (Pross Academy, he soon discovered it was called as he observed the sign across from the entrance) was very bright, and smelled like freshly mopped floors, hairspray, and wooden floor panels. The entrance way led to two staircases, one marked "Dames" for the girls, and the other marked "Messieurs" for the boys. To his immediate left, however, a doorway stood ajar and as he approached it he heard classical musical playing. He gathered his nerve and peered in.

Before him was a large room with mirrors on two of the walls, long wooden poles running horizontally across the other two, and wooden floors. In the center of the room stood a group of about twenty young girls all dressed in black body suits with pink tights and pink Pointe shoes. They were doing jumps of some sort and Draco marveled briefly as to how they hardly made a sound as they landed despite the heaviness of their shoes and the heights they were reaching when they leapt. He also noticed that each girl had her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

Except for one.

One girl in the very front of the room had her hair sloppily placed into a loose bun, while wild strands of curly, dirty blonde hair flew across her blue-grey eyes as she jumped up and down.

He had found his Fox.

There was an older woman standing at the front of the room, her grey hair also pulled back into a sleek bun which made her severe, and aged face look all the more stern. She wore a long black skirt, a white blouse, and a black sweater. She was pacing back and forth, shouting out corrections.

"Land through ze ball of your foot, Catherine! We are not éléphants!" She instructed to a girl standing in the back with jet black hair and matching dark eyebrows.

"Oui, Madame Pross!" The girl answered, looking down at her feet as she jumped.

The song and the jumping soon ended, with each girl posing with her arms meeting gracefully in front of her.

"Now ze routine! Your positions, s'il vous plaît! Rapidement!" Madame Pross ordered and the girls quickly began to run to the sides of the room and arranged themselves into lines from tallest to shortest. He noticed Fox was on the end, as the shortest.

"Merci. And…" She walked over to what Draco had learned was a Muggle Cee-Dee player and Stare-Rio and pressed a button. As she did so more classical music began to play and the first two girls from each side of the room rushed forward and leapt across the floor, with the following girls doing the same. It was then that Draco noticed there were actually only nineteen girls present, Fox being the extra one in her line. As all of the other girls filled out, leapt, and made a V formation, Fox entered with a leap similar to the others, but when she landed she went into a spin, balancing on the very tip of her wooden shoes. She seemed to spin around for ages before stopping gracefully, lowering onto her heels, with the other leg pointing behind her. The other girls then joined in and the entire group began to spin on their tip toes. Then, Fox raised up onto her toes once more and began to perform very intricate foot work. He hardly watched her feet though, and instead focused on her face. She was breathtaking as her eyes followed her arms and looked over her fingers when she stretched them out. There was a fire and deep concentration burning below the blue and grey and he couldn't bring himself to look away from her.

He realized he had never seen any human move like that - Wizard, witch, or Muggle. Every movement was precise, and full of grace. Each step was specific and every foot seemed to move at the same time, moving along with the music. It was beautiful and Draco felt his heart start beating faster, and almost… heavier. It was as though life had suddenly taken hold of him again as he began to feel the music, and the dancing. He hadn't known the feeling of power in so long, but watching these girls twist and turn and leap and kick, he felt a rising pressure in his chest, and a warm sensation that flooded his entire body.

It had to be magic. It simply had to.

The ballet class continued on for about another hour, with the dancers performing the first dance he witnessed and then two others several different times until Madame Pross was satisfied. Half way through one of the dances Fox had looked over and noticed Draco standing in the doorway. She had smiled slightly at him, although he could tell she was completely shocked by his presence. She had continued on though, as if she hadn't seen him.

Once the class was over Draco decided to move back into the entrance way, pretending to look at a poster on the wall as the dancers began to exit. He noticed most of them staring at him as they walked up the stairs, whispering to each other in French as they went. Madame Pross exited but stopped next to him.

"Bonjour. Peux-je vous aider, monsieur?" She asked him and he could nothing but stare at her with wide eyes. Although he understood French fairly well (he knew that she had just asked him if he needed her help), he could hardly speak it properly. He figured he could get by with speaking to her in English, however, considering that's how she had conducted most of her lesson.

"I'm just here to visit." He said stupidly. Madame Pross raised an eyebrow at him.

"Qui?"

He faltered for a moment, unsure of what to say due to the fact he had no idea what Fox's real name was. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was a fish out of water (which, figuratively, he was).

He was relieved when he heard a voice from the doorway say "Me, Madame Pross."

He turned to see Fox leaning up against the door frame with a small smile on her lips.

She was just always smiling at him.

"Oui." Madame Pross said and then murmured something to Fox in French before walking into another room adjacent to the staircases.

Draco moved closer to her, noting the sweat dripping down her face and on her breasts. He tried to stop his mind from wandering then, but it was very difficult for him not to imagine her back in his apartment, laying on her back, those beads of sweat dripping down…

"Well, well, well. The Hound has found his Fox."

She smirked. He almost liked that better than her actual smile. It was a lot sexier.

Not that Muggles were sexy.

Fuck.

"Yeah… I guess I have." He mentally slapped himself for such a lame answer.

"Wait one second." She then instructed him, shutting the door in his face. He had just enough time to get over the shock of it when the large door opened again and Fox stood in a short black dress, now tights-less and shoe-less. Her hair was almost completely out of the bun that hung limply at the nape of her neck.

"Come on in." She told him, taking his hands in hers and leading him into the dance room, shutting the door behind him.

"So this is your dance academy, then?" He asked, trying his hardest to start up a conversation with her.

He wasn't sure why though.

She was _just a fucking Muggle!_

"Yes, it is. Our dormitories and the dining hall are all upstairs." She explained to him, as she bent over the Muggle Stare-Rio, pushing buttons and opening and closing different parts of it. He didn't respond to her answer as he watched her stand and pop music started to play. The beat was quiet at first, as she walked closer to him, but just as she reached him it burst into a much louder, quick tempo.

"Dance with me?" She asked and Draco didn't know what to say. He didn't know _how_ to dance.

Fox hardly seemed to care, though, because just as a man's voice began singing a series of words so low and so quick Draco could hardly catch them, she had moved closer to him, her body touching his, and she started to move. Her hips swayed in time with the quick beat, her upper body moving the opposite directions her hips would shake, her shoulders rolling, her hands on her hips.

He just stood in front of her awkwardly as she took one arm and laced it behind his neck, pulling him closer to her as her hips grinded against his own. The man's singing suddenly became more clear and had he not been so distracted by Fox's hips and chest rubbing rhythmically against him, Draco was sure he could have understood the words. Then, the beat slowed a little and as she swung her other arm around his neck he managed to make out the words to the chorus.

"_Ooh, I want you_

_I don't know if I need you_

_But, ooh, I'd die to find out._

_Ooh, I want you_

_I don't know if I need you_

_But, ooh, I'd die to find out."_

She would shake her hips to one side twice for a beat, and then twice the other way. He started to catch onto the movement just as the song changed tempo again, and returned to the quick paced, swift talking verse.

She had moved her hands to his hips now and was forcing him to move them from side to side like hers were doing. He felt embarrassed as she gave him encouraging smiles so he started to move them without her help. When she noticed this, she slid her hands up to his shoulders and stared into his eyes, beckoning him to come closer, and he did so, placing his hands onto her hips.

"_Come stand a little bit closer,_

_Breathe in and get a bit higher,_

_You'll never know what hit you,_

_When I get to you."_

The chorus started again and she began the double hip shakes once more. His hands felt every movement and when he got the beat down he attempted to move with her, failing miserably. If she noticed (which he was sure she did), however, she said nothing and continued to look into his eyes, heating up his insides.

A musical break then started and Fox managed to turn around beneath his hands so that her back was to his front. She started moving her hips again, her backside rubbing against his more sensitive areas. He instinctively moved his arms more tightly around her, pulling her as close as possible to him, and leaning down to place his face closer to her hair and neck. She placed her hands on top of his as the musical interlude became a little slower and smoother. With the position they were in it made it a lot easier for Draco to catch on to the movements of her hips.

As the chorus started again he was able to follow along with her hip shakes, creating an insane feeling in his stomach as they moved in sync. He could feel something bubbling up inside of him, tugging at the ends of his lips, pulling them upwards into a small smile.

The chorus started a few more times, and as it did Fox turned to face him again, making sure neither of them lost the beat. She put her arms back on his shoulders as he moved his around to the small of her back. Their bodies were now smashed up against the others, their eyes burning holes into the others, and their hearts beating as one.

As the music ended Draco found he could no longer smother the feelings raging in his stomach and his chest. A smile took over his face creating a strange feeling all over his body - it was an action that had become so foreign to him. Fox also smiled, giggling quietly at him.

"So what did you think, Hound?"

He didn't bother giving her an answer, he just leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.

And he was kissing her.

Her lips were salty from sweat but he could also taste a bit of cherries. He felt her lips part underneath his and he took that as his invitation to slid his tongue into her mouth. The instant he did this, one of her hands reached up and started to tangle in his untidy hair. There were jolts of lightening throughout his entire body - shaking him and burning him down to his skeleton. He was pulling her as close as he possibly could trying to savior every inch of her body pressed to his, and his tongue trying to explore every wet crevice of her mouth.

Eventually they both started to run out of breath and separated a few inches.

"Come back to my place. It's just down the road." He heard himself whisper breathlessly as his eyes tried taking in every inch of her face.

He figured there was no point in holding back now. He had already kissed a Muggle.

And he liked a lot.

He might as well do everything else he had tried to convince himself he didn't want to do with/to her.

Her face fell slightly though and she shook her head.

"I can't. We aren't allowed out of the academy on weekdays." She whispered to him.

"Whatever happened to being a Fox? Being sly and free and not following the rules?" He asked her, irritated by her sudden conformity.

"This is different. If I go out Madame Pross will kick me out of the academy and out of our end of summer recital. I couldn't let her or the other girls down like that." She told him and he nodded. He supposed he could understand not wanting to let other people down - he had felt that responsibility when Voldemort had given him the task of killing Dumbledore. He knew so many people's fates rested with him, and his family was relying on him because if he failed they would not be rewarded and instead would be shamed and possibly tortured by the Dark Lord.

Yes, he understood her completely.

But his face fell anyway, and he didn't bother trying to hide his disappointment. Just as he started to back away, however, Fox pulled him back and placed another passionate kiss on his lips.

"But tomorrow's Friday and I'm free after 7." She said softly, her smile returning as she pulled away from him. He felt his face lift again as he leaned in and took her lips in his again several more times.

"Where can I meet you?" He asked her between kisses. Now that he had finally admitted to himself that he enjoyed kissing her, he really didn't want to stop. Her lips were full and luscious and he absolutely adored them.

"I'll meet you at the beach at 7:30." She told him, a giggle escaping her lips before he kissed them.

"Alright, I'll be there." He told her. He had pulled away now, a ridiculous smile on his face. She giggled some more before taking up his hands in hers.

"Okay. You have to go now, I need to wash up before dinner or Madame Pross will throw a fit." She informed him and he nodded. The pair walked towards the exit, hand in hand.

"Goodbye. I'll see you tomorrow." Fox said quietly before Draco exited the academy and began his now unbearably lonely walk back down the street, the pop song playing in his head.

"_Ooh, I want you_

_I don't know if I need you_

_But, ooh, I'd die to find out."_


	4. Secrets

FOX AND HOUND

Rated M for strong language and sexual situations

Chapter Summary: "You're name is Draco Malfoy. You are the son of Lucius Malfoy, the man who murdered my father…"

Disclaimer: Oh, please. In my dreams.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing. That makes me so very happy!

CHAPTER FOUR: SECRETS

**The beach was their place. They had met there every weekend for a month. Together they would sit, talk, and sometimes Fox even got her Hound to laugh. For the most part, though, she did all the talking. She would tell him about this dance class and that dance class, and the different girls at the academy, as well as her views on politics, and certain Muggle movies she enjoyed. He sat and listened to her, or at least pretended to. Most of the time his mind would wander into the water, thinking about the time they had splashed in their underwear, or to the dance academy where they had danced and shared their first kiss.**

**They didn't kiss a lot, that was for sure. Usually the only times they did kiss were when they were alone on the beach and Fox would ask him to dance with her. After they would move together rhythmically he would place another kiss on her full, beautiful lips that he was starting to fall in love with.**

**He noticed that she was never the one to kiss him.**

**Those nights all ended the same. They would dance, they would kiss, and then Draco would ask her to come up to his apartment with him. She denied him every time, always insisting that she had to go back to the academy before Madame Pross or Catherine or somebody else sent out a search party for her.**

**He felt himself falling for her. She was just so beautiful and her personality so rich. He liked that she didn't mind it when she spoke and he didn't pay any attention. He loved the way she moved her hips when they stood in the sand at night, and he loved the way she moved the rest of her body when she stood in her dance classes, on the top of her toes, moving to the music. She never took any moment for granted, and always took the time to sit in silence with him, merely enjoying his presence. She was not afraid to argue with him (although it rarely happened, considering he hardly understood the Muggle issues she talked about) and that made him like her even more. She smelled perfect, all the time, and her hair was soft and free. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. The fact that she was a Muggle and he was a hypocrite and everything he had once despised had completely vanished from his mind. He felt whole again with her.**

**He was no longer torn. She had sewn him up, pieced him back together bit by bit.**

**She saved him.**

**It was cloudy and looked like rain. Draco sat on the beach in their usual spot waiting. She was almost fifteen minutes late which was odd for her because she was always prompt. He figured she might have had to stay behind and talk with Madame Pross about their summer recital that was coming up in a week. He had been trying not to think about the end of summer - he had never asked where she would be going for school and it was all he could hope for that she wasn't going some place too far away.**

**He was twisting his wand around in his hand carelessly. It was strange for him not to be able to use it all the time. He had almost gotten used to living without it. His wand used to be his crutch - it made him feel safe and powerful because he knew he could protect himself with it. But being with Fox for so long had made him more independent - he felt like he could do anything… he was invincible.**

"**Hound?" A faint voice had called to him. He stood up, quickly hiding his wand back in the waist band of his pants, and saw Fox walking slowly towards him. Her wild hair was blowing behind her, and her eyes were red rimmed and swollen. She had been crying. His brows furrowed together as he walked over to meet her.**

"**Fox, what's wrong?" He asked placing his hands on her arms. Her face was blank, her eyes glassy from her tears. He began to worry. What if Madame Pross had decided to let Maria be the prima ballerina in their recital? What if all those times of leaving her hair in a messy bun had made Madame Pross so mad she told Fox she couldn't be in the ballet dances? What if she had found out about Fox meeting him on the beach and had kicked her out of the recital completely? So many things could have gone wrong and he couldn't help the feeling that it was all his fault.**

"**I know who you are."**

**His heart stopped.**

**No.**

"**That's impossible."**

**He hadn't meant to say it out loud but it slipped. He hadn't been expecting her to say what she had said. He let go of her and his arms dropped to his sides.**

"**No, it's not impossible. I know who you are and you know who I am, too." Tears were starting to run down her cheeks, now and he couldn't bare the sight. He had made plenty of girls cry before but this was different - he had no idea what he had done.**

"**Who am I then?" He demanded, positive that she had no idea. Maybe there was a Muggle film star who looked like him. He dashed that though, because she wouldn't be crying then. Perhaps she thought he was a Muggle criminal or something.**

**Yes, that had to be it.**

"**You're name is Draco Malfoy. You are the son of Lucius Malfoy, the man who murdered my father Anthony Greengrass."**

**His heart stopped again. She couldn't know him. **_**How the fuck did she know him?!**_** How could a Muggle know of him or his father? And why had his father killed hers? He didn't even know her father had died! Come to think of is he knew nothing of her family.**

**Wait.**

**Fuck.**

**Shit.**

**Greengrass.**

"**Daphne Greengrass…I know her… how…?" He looked up at her utterly confused, and terrified of where their conversation was headed.**

"**Daphne is my sister. My name is Astoria. I'm a witch. And you're a wizard."**

**His heart beat had now started pumping double time. She was a witch! A **_**witch!**_

**She was a fucking witch the whole entire time! A pure blood witch, too!**

**But she was still crying.**

**Why was she still crying?**

"**Did you go to Hogwarts?" He couldn't think of anything else to ask her.**

"**My parents took me out in my third year after the Dark Lord's return. They sent me to Beauxbatons instead because my father felt it was safer for me here in France." She explained to him. Draco's mind started to fill with questions, then.**

"**But your sister was still at Hogwarts. She was in my year." He repeated this as if it would disprove her story - as if she was then going to take everything back and say she just made it all up.**

"**She wanted to stay at Hogwarts. She didn't believe it when my father said a war was going to occur - she told him that nobody in their right mind was going to challenge the Dark Lord this time, not even Harry Potter." She wasn't looking him. She stared at her feet or at the ocean, occasionally at the sky - anywhere but into his eyes.**

"**How did your father even know about the Dark Lord's return?" Draco couldn't help being so confused by all the information she was laying on him. It just wasn't making any sense. Why had his father killed her father? How did her father know all of this? How did she know it was **_**him?**_

"**My father was a Death Eater. In fact, my sister also became a Death Eater after Dumbledore's death, but the Dark Lord was unsatisfied with her work - she almost lost him quite a bit of valuable information - so he killed her within a few months. When he asked my father for a suitable replacement, namely me, my father refused him. The Dark Lord didn't feel my father was important enough to kill himself, so he sent Lucius to do it. Your father killed my father under the Dark Lord's orders."**

**Draco felt his heart breaking all over again. His soul was ripping apart and all the stitching and repairing Fox (or Astoria) had done to him had become a complete waste. He was torn again.**

"**I know why he did it. It's what the Dark Lord commanded and when the Dark Lord commands you to do something you do it - or you die." She stated matter-of-factly, her tears stopping but her face still splotched and her eyes still hurt. "You would know all about that though, I suppose."**

**Her words stung him.**

"**So you lied to me. This entire time has been a lie." He said softly but she began shaking her head.**

"**No. I haven't lied to you about anything. I never told you the whole entire truth, but I never lied. I really have attended Madame Pross' Academy for the last two years. I go every summer after school. I don't use magic on a regular basis, so I have never done anything to you to make you think something that wasn't real. I honestly love being around the Muggles here. The girls at the academy are my best friends." She seemed so different to him now. The emptiness he had felt when he had come to France seemed to have transferred to her, now. "During the war, though, it became really difficult to talk to them anymore. They didn't understand what I was going through. For them life was easy, while I had to sit back and wait to hear about how my sister and then my father had been murdered all because of the Dark Lord. I was an orphan and I was alone. Nobody understood how I felt." She was sobbing. He was dieing.**

"**Your mother…?" His voice was soft and scratchy as he felt a lump in his throat begin to form.**

"**She died when I was eleven - right before I entered Hogwarts. That's probably why you never saw me or heard of me. I kept out of the way and out of sight and I didn't have any friends. It took me a long time before I was able to break out of my shell. But by then, of course, it was too late and my father had sent me here to France." The sobbing had stopped but the tears had not. He felt so guilty.**

"**I'm sorry about my father." She shrugged.**

"**I found an old issue of the Daily Prophet in my trunk. That's how I figured out who you were. You were a Death Eater, too." He nodded. What else could he do? There was no denying the fact. It was pretty well known throughout the entire Wizarding World that he and his father had been Death Eaters and that he had been the one meant to kill Dumbledore.**

"**I didn't want to be." He lied.**

**She finally caught his eye. He couldn't read the emotions in hers but he did notice that they had become the same steely grey as his own.**

**She reached up with both of her hands and began to unbutton his shirt. He looked down as her fingers worked slowly at each button, and when they had reached the final one she pushed the material off of his shoulders and he let it fall to the ground. It was the first time he had been shirtless in front of her, but instead of glancing over his muscles that had usually drawn the attention of most witches, she took hold of his left arm and lifted it up, showing the scarred Dark Mark resting on his forearm. She traced the skull with her fingers.**

"**Nobody becomes a Death Eater unless they want to be one. You're father was one and you wanted him to be proud of you. You felt like it was your obligation until you realized what all it entailed. That's when you didn't want to be a Death Eater - when it was too late. It was the same situation for my father. When he decided too much was too much, he was killed. I imagine a similar fate would have befallen you had you chosen to leave." She had stepped much closer to him, her fingers tracing all the lines and scars on his chest and arms. Although he felt like crumbling beneath her, he couldn't deny that her touch burned his skin and he wanted to hold her and take her and make her his with all of his being.**

"**I had to chose life. I couldn't leave my mother." He whispered down to her. She nodded.**

"**I do not blame you." She whispered back, now looking up at him.**

"**I am so sorry. Will you forgive me?"**

"**You did nothing wrong. It took me a while to come to that conclusion but I have. As far as I'm concerned I've only known you for a month and a half and you've never done anything to harm me. Even if you had, though, how could I **_**not**_** forgive you? Draco, you mean the world to me."**

**The sound of his name falling from her lips was all it took. He bent down and kissed her. The kiss didn't last long and he forced himself away quickly.**

"**I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He said but she started shaking her head.**

"**Will you stop apologizing already?" She breathed before throwing her arms around his shoulders and her lips against his. It was the first time she had ever kissed him.**

**And he loved it.**

**His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Thunder rolled above them and raindrops started falling from the sky.**

"**Come up to my place." He said and this time she said nothing, only nodded. He smiled and took her hand. The pair ran up the beach, through the foliage, and across the street to his apartment building. It was only then that Draco realized he had left his shirt on the beach, but he did not care. Astoria was gripping his hand with both of hers as they raced up to the second floor. As he scrambled for the key she rolled her eyes at him, pushing his hand down and pulled out a long, thin piece of wood.**

"**Alohomora." She whispered, her wand placed lightly on the door handle. The lock clicked and they entered the room, Draco immediately taking her into his arms as he kicked the door shut.**

"**I think that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen you do." He murmured as he started kissing her neck fiercely, nipping at her skin.**

"**Unlock a door?" She asked laughing slightly and he felt the rumble in her throat as she did so, and focused his attention there.**

"**No, using magic."**

"**I see." She whispered as she put her hands on Draco's head and brought him back up to her lips. He had backed her against his bed and the pair had fallen down onto it. **

"**Maybe next time summon you some water or disarm you, or something." She told him from underneath his lips. He had started unbuttoning her shirt now.**

"**Oh, stop it. You're turning me on." He whispered as he started kissing her stomach and her breasts (at least the skin above her bra).**

"**Draco…" She breathed his name and he came up to catch her lips.**

"**What?" He asked, afraid the joking was over and she was going to tell him that she couldn't do this with him because of what his father had done. His father managed to ruin everything.**

"**I've never done this before." Her cheeks turned bright red. He smiled.**

"**Astoria…" Her name sounded like music coming from his mouth.**

"**What?"**

"**Neither have I."**

**She smiled at him.**

**He loved that fucking smile.**

**He started kissing her again as she managed to remove his belt and undo his pants. He was quick to slide them off as she began to unfasten her own belt and remove her shorts. She was wearing the same black panties she had worn when they swam in the sea, but this time she had on a lacy black bra to go with them. They looked like quite a pair - her in her black bra and panties, him in black briefs.**

**A match made in… Well, somewhere. Draco doubted they made people like him in Heaven.**

**Astoria, on the other hand, must have come straight from there. She was an angel.**

**Her skin was so soft beneath his hands and lips. He couldn't touch her enough. With every item of clothing he removed the softer she seemed to be. She breathed heavily as his lips caressed her more sensitive spots and a moan or two even escaped her mouth when he kissed the insides of her thighs.**

"**Draco… Draco…"**

**-----**

"**Oh, Draco!"**

**-----**

"**Draco?"**

**He turned to look at her. She was laying on her side, looking at him through heavy lidded eyes. She was still slightly sweaty from their activity, and a smile was still resting on her face, as well as on his own. They had moved under the covers after they had finished (the second time) and now his arm was laying across her waist and their legs entangled under the covers.**

"**Do you love me?"**

**He kissed her lips. Every fiber of his being wanted to keep her there with him forever and ever. She was everything he ever wanted. She completed him.**

**But he couldn't tell her that. He had to keep her guessing. The Malfoy inside of him laughed at her slightly frustrated expression.**

"**You are so mysterious." She whispered before placing a light kiss on his lips.**

"**I **_**love**_** mysteries."**

**Please, read and review some more. It makes my day brighter when you do. Hehe.**


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